


8ABY

by ErinDarroch, JustineGraham



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Conversations, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinDarroch/pseuds/ErinDarroch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustineGraham/pseuds/JustineGraham
Summary: Han is smitten with his daughter, and she's hasn't even arrived yet. Sweet, Solo family fluff.





	8ABY

**8ABY**

**By Erin Darroch and Justine Graham**

“Strange....,” Han murmured, running his hand reverently over the small, rounded bulge of Leia’s belly.

“ _Mmm?_ ” Leia dragged her eyes open to look down the length of herself at her husband’s sleepy face.

He was scrunched up halfway down the bed, one long arm wrapped around her hips, his stubbled cheek pressed against her swollen abdomen. The warmth of his breath permeated the thin fabric of her short but voluminous nightgown and sent a pleasant shiver rippling over Leia’s skin.

“What’s ‘strange’?” she asked, blinking to clear her bleary vision. Despite their unorthodox positions in the bed, she was cosy and comfortable—a condition that was starting to become increasingly rare in this, her fifth month of pregnancy—and she’d been teetering just on the edge of falling asleep.

Han’s head shifted up a notch against her stomach, and she caught his eye in the dim moonlight that slanted through the tall windows of their bedroom.

“She’s not even _here_ yet, but I ….” He stopped short, stretched out his neck to press a kiss just above Leia’s navel and then subsided against her once more. “I love her,” he finished simply. His eyes flicked back up to meet Leia’s gaze once more, glimmering silvery grey in the darkened room. “So damn much.”

Smiling, Leia threaded the fingers of one hand through his rumpled hair, smoothing the thick locks away from his crinkled forehead. He looked almost bemused by his own declaration, as if he couldn’t quite understand what he was saying.

“She loves you, too,” Leia whispered.

The corner of Han’s mouth quirked up in acknowledgement, but his eyes danced away as he turned and settled his head against her belly once more, apparently content to remain where he was, half-curled around her lower body. “Good.” 

Tightening her fingers in his hair, just enough to regain his attention, Leia waited for him to look up again before she spoke. “I mean it.”

Turning his head, he propped his chin on her belly and his eyebrows tilted up; he looked intrigued, but not convinced. “You can tell that, huh?”

“Yes, I can,” Leia replied softly, the weight of certainty settling within her heart even as she spoke the words.

She felt a wave of gratitude for the special gift she possessed to sense such things, and for the beloved brother who’d helped her develop those innate skills and to train in the ways of the Force. Even now, more than a year after she’d constructed her own lightsaber and Luke had declared the first phase of her training complete, she was still discovering new ways to appreciate her abilities.

She became aware that Han was still watching her—his eyes, alight with interest, steady on her face. She gave him a soft smile, tenderly smoothing the hair away from his temple and curling her fingers behind his ear.

“Obviously, she’s not aware of us the way we are of her,” she explained, “and she doesn’t have language to frame thoughts like we do. But I can feel _pure joy_ in her, whenever you come near. A kind of…,” Leia paused, searching for the right words. “It’s a special kind of _recognition_ and excitement that I don’t feel coming from her when I’m around anyone else. In her own way, she _knows_ you, knows you're important to her. And she can sense your presence,” Leia said, “the same way I can.”

Han lifted his head higher then, propped himself up on one elbow and gave his wife a wary sidelong glance as he reached back to scratch the nape of his neck.

“I’m not even gonna try to pretend that doesn’t weird me out a little,” he admitted. “But I guess if we’ve already got two Jedi in the family, one more ain’t gonna hurt.” He gave a soft snort. “You sure about that, though? She’s gonna be like you and Luke?”

“Pretty sure,” Leia murmured.

She ran soothing fingers through Han’s dishevelled hair again, sensing within him a glimmer of the deep uncertainty that had visited them both in turns throughout the first few months of her pregnancy. Although they had planned this child and were preparing as well as they could for her arrival, they were both keenly aware that parenting was completely uncharted territory, fraught with mystery and unknown future challenges. Throughout the last few months, they had each been prone to experiencing brief bouts of nervousness over the prospect of their new joint endeavour, but after nearly eight years together—the last three of those in marriage—they were pretty good at encouraging each other through those shaky periods.

As she combed her fingers through his hair, adoring the texture of it against her skin, she idly wondered if the baby would inherit his hair or hers. Such mysteries were deeply intriguing to Leia and she found herself spending more and more time each day in dreamy anticipation. Would their daughter grow to have Han’s towering height or would she inherit Leia’s own diminutive stature? Would she see the galaxy through changeable hazel eyes like his, or deep brown ones like hers? Perhaps she would possess her mother’s penchant for lengthy, diplomatic discourse—but there was always the chance she’d be more inclined towards her father’s laconic, actions-speak-louder-than-words style of communication.

Han yawned, drawing Leia out of her reverie. She turned her attention back to his face, and then gave him a soft smile. “Even if I’m mistaken and it turns out that she _doesn’t_ have that ability,” she continued, “I know she recognises your voice. She reacts when you speak.”

“That so?” Han looked enormously pleased at that affirmation. He gave a soft chuckle as he shifted around on the bed and then positioned himself so that he could address Leia’s belly directly. “Alright, kid, listen up,” he said in his deepest timbre, “I love you.” He planted a kiss squarely atop Leia’s protruding stomach and then slanted a grin up at his wife.

Leia started to laugh, but then caught her breath and held up a forestalling finger as she felt a familiar fluttering movement deep and low inside; their daughter was slowly waking up, too. Smiling, Leia shifted slightly to lie flat on her back, a position that wasn’t entirely comfortable with her expanded belly, but one she knew would elicit the most activity.

“Say something else,” she urged as she settled back against her pillow and gave Han another encouraging smile.

He returned a slightly dubious glance, but leaned in anyway to address her midsection once more.

“Hey, baby, it’s me,” he murmured gruffly, lowering his face to within a centim of Leia’s body. His rough voice grew a little softer. “It’s, uh… it’s your dad here.”

Leia bit her lip, charmed and deeply moved at hearing Han refer to himself by that title. She opened her mouth to speak, but paused as she felt the baby respond once more to the sound of Han’s voice. The internal wriggling produced a visible ripple of movement beneath the pale fabric of Leia’s nightgown and, judging by the look of surprise on Han’s face, he’d noticed it, too. His eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“ _Whoa._ Was that…?”

Leia nodded against her pillow. “I told you; she _knows_.”

“That’s...that’s….” Han gaped, clearly a little consternated by the idea of interacting with his unborn child through the wall of Leia’s abdomen. “That’s _amazing_ ,” he finally concluded, shifting fully onto his stomach, propping himself up on both forearms and meeting Leia’s gaze with a look of dumbfounded delight.

Leia grinned, sharing his sense of wonder and excitement. Feeling another tiny movement within, she reached on impulse to pull the lower hem of her nightgown up and out of the way, revealing the smooth, taut skin of her belly beneath.

“Here,” she said, poking at her swollen stomach in the exact spot where she’d just felt her daughter move. At first, there was nothing much to see there, but Han’s attention was riveted anyway, his eyes avidly scanning the surface of her skin.

“Talk to her,” Leia urged softly.

Han cast another wary glance her way, and then put his face close to her body and said, “Hey, kid. Can’t wait to meet you.” He paused, and then added. “But take your time, huh? No funny business.” He leaned in, pressed his forehead and nose to the spot and added in his deepest, most authoritative growl, “ _And don’t give your mother a hard time_.”

The sudden pulse of movement that followed Han’s injunction was the most emphatic Leia had ever felt, and it was clear by Han’s startled reaction that he’d felt it, too. His head jerked back and he stared at Leia’s rounded belly with his mouth hanging open, one hand coming up to touch his own forehead.

“Did she just… _kick_ me?” he finally stammered, fingering the spot between his eyebrows. “I felt it. I felt _her_.”

“Yes, that was her,” Leia laughed. “Whether it was a kick or a punch, though….I don’t know. Could have been an elbow.”

Han continued to stare into Leia’s eyes for a long moment, mouth agape, and then he gave a short, delighted laugh of his own, dived down once more and scooped Leia’s lower half into a warm, tight hug, pressing his cheek against the bulge that sheltered their unborn daughter. Leia writhed, laughing, as he began raining smooching kisses all over her bare belly, then grabbed him by the hair as his heavy stubble pricked her tender skin.

“ _Ow_! I think ‘Dad’ needs a shave….”

Han lifted his face away and gave Leia an apologetic glance as he extended comically puckered lips and gave her stomach one last careful kiss, this time without the sting of bristly whiskers. “Sorry, Sweetheart.”

Smiling, Leia gathered the fabric of the nightgown that she'd crumpled beneath her breasts and then stretched it down to cover her belly once more. She gave the firm bump a little pat, and inclined her head at Han. “There you go,” she encouraged, and sighed in contentment as he rested his head against her once more, his face turned up towards hers.

With his ear pressed to her body, Han’s eyes took on a faraway look as he listened closely to whatever sounds were presently emanating from within. The tiny movements continued, and to Leia's deep delight they did indeed seem to be focused on the place where Han rested his head, as if the baby was trying her best to make contact with her father. Without warning, Leia felt her eyes sting, and had to swallow hard against the tightening of her throat. The baby gave another solid thump, this one aimed squarely at Han’s cheek and he burst out laughing again, his eyes crinkling into crescents as he gave his daughter an answering nudge with his nose. He looked up at Leia then with such a hopelessly besotted look on his face, she found herself laughing through sudden tears.

“Aww, Sweetheart….” Han’s cheerful expression rapidly melted into concern and he began to straighten up from his position, evidently intent upon soothing her distress.

Leia waved him off, more exasperated than embarrassed, and encouraged him with a touch to remain where he was.

“It's nothing. Just hormones.” She swiped at a few tears as they rolled down her cheeks, stubbornly refusing to be held at bay.

Until she’d experienced it for herself, Leia hadn’t quite comprehended the hair-trigger volatility of the emotions she’d witnessed from some of her expectant colleagues. There had been a huge surge in the number of pregnancies amongst Alliance personnel after Endor, and another ‘baby boom’ in the year immediately following the final major battle of the war. Those events had been accompanied by a general increase in awareness of (and lots of good-natured jokes about) the peculiarities of the condition. Leia had felt curious and a little bemused by the occasional show of tears from her pregnant allies, but now she understood completely. _Anything_ could set her off. So far this week, she’d wept over the inexplicable loss of one of Han’s socks in the autovalet, sniffled over a sappy holonet advertisement for a new brand of pittin food, and cried actual tears when the local shop ran out of her favourite Ettelnut and cacao ice cream. Since there was nothing she could do about her hormonal state, she’d resigned herself to waiting it out and putting up with the occasional baffling wave of emotion whenever it took her unawares.

But Han required a little more convincing. His eyes were still roaming her face, a look of concern etched into his features.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Leia said, knuckling the tears away. “Better than fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” she said simply, but with utmost sincerity, conscious of how incongruous her words must seem with tears continually rolling down her cheeks. She gave a short, exasperated laugh as she wiped away the last of them and then gave her husband a reassuring smile. “I’m happy, Han. _So_ happy.”

Han’s watchful gaze held hers for a moment longer; then, apparently satisfied that the moment had passed, his handsome features softened once more. He quirked a crooked smile in return, and the deep affection that Leia saw in the depths of his eyes was so clearly heartfelt it raised a lump in her throat and threatened to start the flood of tears all over again. Biting her lip and shaking her head to ward it off, she motioned for Han to return to his former position as she wrestled inwardly to get her tumultuous emotions under control.

“I'm happy, too,” Han declared cheerily, stretching an arm around Leia’s hips and settling his cheek against the swell of her belly once more. “It’s wild, though. For such a tiny thing, she sure packs a wallop.” He paused and then cocked an amused eyebrow at his wife. “Gonna take after you, I guess.”

Leia snorted a laugh. “Yes, well, apparently these are the _gentle_ movements. It won’t be long before she’s kicking like an ornery Bordok, or so I’ve read.”

“Does it hurt?” Han asked, flicking his eyes up to meet hers while running his hand over her abdomen once more.

He couldn’t seem to resist caressing, Leia noticed; but she didn’t mind. The warm weight and slow, rhythmic stroke of his palm was very welcome and immensely soothing. Deep within, Leia could feel a familiar shift in the energy emanating from their daughter. Just as she had responded to the sound of Han’s voice with a burst of excited joy, she now seemed to respond to his calming energy as well. A feeling of tranquility settled over Leia as she felt that tiny sparkle of awareness within her begin to fade, as the baby grew tired and subsided once more into slumber. Leia gave a little shake of her head, belatedly answering Han’s question.

“No, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“What’s it like, then?” Han asked, directing his gaze downward as another brief ripple distorted the rounded contours of Leia’s belly beneath his hand.

Leia returned her fingers to his hair, idly rifling through the thick tufts as she considered his question.

“It felt a little... _fluttery_ at first, when I began to notice her movement. Kind of like bubbles popping inside me, although it was easy to overlook unless I really paid attention. But she’s much more active now, and so much stronger.”

Han moved from his cosy position then, uncurling his long frame from around Leia’s body and then shifting up until he was sitting back on his heels atop the mattress, his fingers splayed on his bare thighs. He gazed at his wife with an expression of unabashed adoration and slightly baffled wonderment as he listened to her describe those movements within that were hidden from his view.

“She rolls and turns over,” Leia continued, “and she has sleeping and waking patterns just like us. She even gets the hiccups once in a while, which is the cutest thing.” She gave a soft laugh. “I can’t really describe it, but feeling her move is...well, it’s reassuring. Strange and wonderful, all at once.”

Han’s eyes roamed her face and figure as if she were some rare and precious gift, or a mystery he had yet to fully comprehend.

At the same time as his doting gaze studied her, Leia took a moment to admire him as well. He was dressed for bed, which meant a pair of boxers made of a soft, dark fabric—and nothing else. In the thin light that suffused the room with a hazy silver glow, she drank in the clean lines of his body; the sculpted shape of his muscles, the patterning of hair across his chest and the smooth texture of his skin. _Superior Corellian genetics,_ he liked to joke, part of his trademark swagger that never failed to make Leia roll her eyes. Looking at him now, though, limned in pale moonlight and looking as beautifully masculine as it was possible to look, Leia would be hard pressed to challenge that cocky assertion.

“You know,” she observed, tucking one bent elbow behind her head, “labile emotions aren’t the _only_ side effects of extra hormones.”

Han snorted. “If you mean your recent hankering for bizarre food combinations, I’ve noticed.”

“I can’t help it if I get cravings,” Leia laughed.

“Yeah, but pickled Taberroot dipped in sweet cream? Bilaberries covered in Rodian pepper sauce? That’s just….” Han gave an exaggerated shudder of revulsion. “ _So wrong_.”

“I happen to think it’s delicious,” Leia asserted loftily, and then tilted her head and regarded him with a suggestive eyebrow and a playful leer. “But food isn’t the only thing I’m craving lately.”

Quick to catch any hint in that direction, Han raised an interested eyebrow of his own. “Is that so?” he drawled, a slow smile stretching across his face.

“ _Mm hm_ ,” Leia hummed and reached for him.

Han responded with alacrity, leaning forward and then advancing on hands and knees up the bed until he was able to stretch out alongside his wife. He settled down with his long body half covering Leia’s own, though he took care not to rest his weight on her. She shifted to fit herself more comfortably against him, entwining her legs with his and reaching one hand up to cradle his head as their mouths met in a series of warm, slow kisses.

They parted after a few moments and Han’s eyes flicked back down between them to the swell of Leia’s belly.

“She asleep again?” he queried.

“Yes,” Leia replied, with a soft laugh at his wary expression. “Out like a light. All that excitement must have worn her out.”

“Good,” Han said, leaning in for another kiss. “Because this is gonna get kinda weird if she’s, you know, listening in.”

As his soft, wandering lips traced the line of her jaw, Leia sighed. “Even if she was awake, she has no higher awareness. The only thing she would be able to sense is the emotion....”

Han’s deep voice rumbled in her ear. “So, all she knows is love?”   

Leia smiled. “Love is all she knows.”

**The End**


End file.
